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“It was seeing me my own face that comforted me. I began to worship myself. My black eyes, the shape of half-moons, were alluring to me; my nose, half flat, half not as if painstakingly made that way, I found so beautiful that I saw in it a standard which the noses of the people I did not like failed to meet. I loved my mouth; my lips were thick and wide, and when I opened my mouth I could take it in volumes, pleasure and pain, awake and asleep. It was this picture of myself–my eyes, my nose, my mouth set in the seamless,unwrinkled, unblemished skin which was my face–that I willed before me. My own face was a comfort to me, my own body was a comfort to me, and no matter how swept away I would become by anyone or anything, in the end I allowed nothing to replace my own mind in my own being.” 

– Jamaica Kincaid, The Autobiography of My Mother

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